Suddenly Sexy

chapter 13



Maddie frowned. "Something funny?"

Sam gulped. "No! No, not at all." Oh hell. Was it too early in their relationship to mention the soul mate thing? Probably, considering they currently didn't have a relationship. "I was just thinking you and Mum have a few things in common." He frowned down at the table. "Scary."

"You can say that again." She retrieved two matching blue mugs and placed them on the bench. "That's not something you want to hear from a man. Especially from one whose mother used to call my mother and complain that Linda was leading her son astray."

He winced, glad for the distraction. Nothing like discussing his mother to dampen fiercely intense emotions. "She did that? She was more out of control than I thought."

"I'm sure she's mellowed in recent years. She hasn't had anyone to worry about since you left town."

"Now I'm back," he said on a sigh. He gave her half a smile and she returned it.

Just like that, the awkwardness was gone and he was having coffee with Maddie Clarke, Linda's little sister. Linda's sexy little sister who was his soul mate.

"I'm insane aren't I?" he said, not entirely focusing on his conversation with Maddie.

She laughed. "How is the old ba—, ah, dear, anyway? Still ruling the tennis club with an iron fist and frightening the teachers down at the high school?"

"She was a menace, wasn't she? Remember that time I failed art and she told Mr. Gower he was a decrepit old hippie who wouldn't know creativity if it jumped up and bit his very large nose. I thought he was going to have a heart attack right there in the Principal's office."

She grinned again and her body seemed to relax. She didn’t stand so straight or hold her head so high as if in a battle-stance. He hadn't noticed how tightly strung she was until now.

Maybe he could massage any remaining kinks out...

"How could you fail art?" she said. "I thought old Flower Power Gower passed everyone."

He shrugged. "Instead of drawing a fruit bowl I drew Mrs. McClary, the English teacher, without clothes on. At Pete's encouragement of course."

She grinned. "You two were impossible in those days." The kettle whistled and she turned round to pour boiling water into the mugs.

"Pete seems to have turned out all right," he said.

"And you?"

"Me? Only the love of a good woman can save me."

She stopped pouring and half-turned to glance at him over her shoulder, her face in profile. Her lips parted as if she was about to say something but closed again and she returned to her task.

The thudding of Sam's heart echoed in his ears as he waited for her response. None came. He stood and moved towards her. It was now or never. He had to get this over with, tell her he wanted to see more of her. Tell her he'd never felt like this before. Tell her...hell, tell her he was quite possibly, maybe, almost certainly in love. With her.

If he didn't do it, he'd lose his nerve. And Sam had never lost his nerve around a woman before and he was damned if he was going to start now when it actually mattered.

He came up behind her, just as she turned, mug in hand. "Maddie," he murmured.

Startled, she let out a small squeal and jumped. Hot coffee splashed out of the mug and onto him. Down his shirt, onto his jeans. At the crotch.

"Yeow!" He plucked at his T-shirt where the boiling liquid seeped through onto bare skin. He swore loudly as ripped the shirt over his head, then brushed the coffee off the front of his jeans. Thank God for denim. If he'd been wearing any other fabric... Ugh. He would have nightmares thinking about that.

Maddie pressed a damp dish cloth to his chest. "Oh my God! Are you all right? Sam, are you hurt? I'm so sorry." She rubbed the cloth across his chest, pressing her other hand into his shoulder to steady herself or maybe him.

The cool towel felt good and he closed his eyes and breathed. The scent of Maddie and coffee filled his nostrils as the light pressure of her fingers on his shoulder sent a shudder through him. He wanted to feel those fingers on his back, in his hair, on his thighs and in the place where not even hot coffee could keep him down.

"Take your pants off."

His eyes flew open. "Huh?"

She ran the cloth under the cold water tap. "So I can put this on your..." She glanced down at his crotch and chewed her lip. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Oh yeah. It ached. But not from hot coffee.

"It's a little warm down there."

She fumbled with his belt. "Then we have to get this towel on quick."

Great, just his luck. His soul mate was trying to get his pants off but only so she could place a cold towel on his erection. Not his idea of a fun time.

He pried her fingers away from his fly before she noticed his growing arousal, and entwined them in his. She didn't untangle them but looked up. Concern furrowed her brow and her eyes searched his.

"Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry. Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you want to go the bathroom."

He shook his head, not trusting his voice. She stood so close he could see the green flecks in her eyes. If he leaned forward, just a little, he'd be able to taste her.

But she took a step back. She glanced down at his chest and placed her hand against his burning flesh. "You're all red." The furrow deepened. "I feel absolutely terrible. I never spill things. It's just that I wasn't expecting you to be so close and your voice made me jump and the coffee went everywhere—"

He didn't know what to say to shut her up so he kissed her. Slowly at first, exploring, tasting. Then it grew deeper and she sighed against his mouth and he couldn't get enough of her. He gathered her in his arms, crushing her to him. Her nipples rubbed to points through her thin bra and he ached to remove the fabric rudely separating his flesh from her lush breasts. Her body shuddered and he couldn't believe this woman, this woman he'd known forever, this intelligent, beautiful woman, was having that sort of response to him.

Her fingernails trailed lightly down his back and grabbed his ass, gripping tight.

"Your ass is mine," she muttered into their kiss.

Way too many Eastwood movies but he wasn't complaining. She could claim his ass any time she wanted.

He flicked the buttons on her shirt and spread the flaps open to reveal a path of creamy flesh. He ran his hands over her stomach, her shoulder, her back, unable to get enough of her warmth and softness. Then he took a step back, saw the desire in her eyes and felt his heart grow full. She wanted him. Nothing felt as good as the moment he realized that.

Maddie had thought she could resist Sam Hennessy, but now she knew she wasn't that strong. No mortal woman could expect to be. He was her fantasy man and just for tonight, she was going to see at least one fantasy fulfilled. Even if it meant living off the memory of it for the rest of her lonely, boring life.

He decorated her throat, her shoulders, the swell of her breasts with delicate kisses. She tipped her head back and moaned, relishing in the heat that rocketed up from her thighs and infused her body. His hot mouth was everywhere, nibbling and sucking and driving her wild.

Some dim vestige of common sense surfaced from the tidal wave of desire swamping her and reminded her that she didn’t do wild. Being wild meant losing control and she definitely didn’t want to do that. Not in front of Sam. She’d sufferend enough embarrassment after the boating incident.

But she couldn’t find it in her to end the encounter. Not when every part of her body screamed for more. She could, however, turn the tables a little.

She bent to explore him with her mouth, kissing away the taste of coffee from each hard nipple. She’d never taken much notice of a man’s nipples before. How they pebbled with each lick. How he seemed to enjoy the way her tongue circled them, flicked with them. He arched into her and groaned.

Oh yeah, he liked it. So what would he do if she went further south? Time for an experiment.

She licked down to his navel where tiny black coils of hair disappeared into the top of his jeans. He moaned. She smiled into his warm skin and unzipped his fly.

But before she had a chance to reach in further, he tugged her up and caught her round the waist. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing and carried her to the bedroom. He placed her on the bed then stood back.

And did nothing.

Oh God, what a time for Pheramour to wear off!

But instead of turning away disgusted, his gaze raked across her body, sending fire shooting up her spine, burning her throat, her breasts, her face.

She sat up and pulled the edges of her shirt together, suddenly self-conscious because, well, it was Sam Hennessy and even his worst dates would've had leaner, better bodies than hers.

"Um, maybe we shouldn't," she said.

He nodded. "Maybe we should." He crouched beside her and gently but firmly pried her arms away, then kissed her just below the ear.

She pulled away. "But we're not even seeing each other."

His eyes were hot blue flames as he looked at her. "I see you, you see me, let's have sex."

"But I'm not wearing the appropriate underwear!" She would die if he saw her in the thong.

"I don’t care. You won't be wearing any in a minute."

He leaned over and kissed her deeply, knocking all sense out of her. How was she supposed to resist him when he kissed like that? He gently pried the shirt off her shoulders and down her arms then stepped back to look at her.

"You're amazing, Maddie." His voice, so close and low, rumbled deep in his chest and awakened a primal urge within her. "I can't get enough of you."

He unhooked her bra and filled his palms with her breasts, stroking the nipples with his thumbs. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. She might have moaned but she'd never admit to that later.

Later. She didn't want to think about that. She wanted to get lost in the now, in his hands, his mouth, his body.

He stood and took off his jeans and boxers and his erection sprang free. Oh boy. The graffiti on the girl's toilets hadn't exaggerated. In fact, it hadn't given him justice. She curled her fingers around the thick shaft and stroked, earning a low growl from deep within his chest.

A bead of moisture gathered at the tip and she rubbed it down his length with her thumb, bringing her hand back up before plunging to the base again. She touched her tongue to the second drop that formed, wanting to taste him.

He pulled away. "No. I won't last." He sucked in air through his teeth and clenched his jaw. "But hold that thought for next time."

He unzipped her jeans, then slowly pulled them down. He stopped the southward progress when they reached her thighs. His knuckles grazed her skin at her hip, just below the side string of her underwear. Damn it, why did have to stop now?

"I thought you said you weren't wearing appropriate underwear." His gaze skittered to her face. "Here's a tip. Thongs are always appropriate."

He removed her jeans then stood back, like Van Gogh admiring his latest masterpiece. A strange little smile crept over his lips and his gaze traveled her body until it met hers. Something odd and fierce dwelled in their blue depths. Not hunger, which she expected, but more...possessive and yet protective at the same time. Primal.

She’d never seen that look in any man’s eyes before. Not for her. And especially not without her clothes on.

But she’d never made love to a man in the daytime so she might have missed it.

"As much as I love these," he tugged on her thong with a finger, "they’ve got to go." He lifted her ass off the bed then removed the thong with one expert move. "Better," he said thickly.

He moved on top of her, hovering, and leaned on one arm while his other hand explored her hip. He drew a nipple into his mouth, sucking and releasing then licking over and over until she thought she'd go insane under the assault of pleasure. When the hand caressing her hip moved to her inner thigh and stroked her flesh she knew she was definitely going insane but she didn't care. The movement, slow and sensual at first, increased and she melted into the fingers like an iceberg in the tropics.

Then his finger shifted, just a fraction, and touched her most private place. Oh. Oh! She gasped and bucked into his hand.

Surprised by her body’s reaction, she shuffled away. "Mmm, that felt good."

"Then why did you move?"

"I..." She couldn’t answer that. Why had she moved? It had felt nice. No, better than nice. It had felt amazing, delicious, thrilling.

But she couldn’t tell him that. Couldn’t tell him that her body was doing weird things without her consent. Sam’s skilled fingers were making her forget what she was doing and that was bad. Dangerous. Just why, she couldn’t quite work out.

No, she could tell him none of that. She couldn’t even form the words let alone make coherent sentences, so she did the next best thing. She caught his face in her hands and kissed him. Long, deep and hard.

"Enter me," she whispered against his lips.

He drew back, blinked at her. "But don't you want to—"

"I want you to enter me." Yes. It’s definitely what she wanted. That’s how it went. A bit of foreplay to make her ready—all good there—and then get down to the serious business of intercourse.

"No," he said.

She frowned at him. "What do you mean no?"

"I mean no." Suddenly he looked dark and dangerous, in a tumbled kind of way. "I don’t know about the other guys you’ve had, but I like to give a woman some pleasure first."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I want you to enjoy this."

"I will." She reached down and stroked his erection. It was smooth and hard, like the rest of him.

He closed his eyes and moaned. "That's cheating."

"I never cheat." She guided him so that the head of his erection pressed against her heat. Oh boy. She was about to do it with Sam Hennessy!

"Okay," he muttered, "I'm not Superman. Next time I'm going to blow your mind."

She smiled but didn't bother to burst his bubble. There wasn't going to be a next time and her mind was not the blowing kind. It never had been and she'd long ago realized she just wasn't a sensual woman. Orgasms weren't meant for her.

Sam kissed her mouth as he slid gently into her. A deep moan escaped his throat and his body shuddered. "Oh Maddie," he murmured against her lips.

Oh boy. She squeezed her eyes shut as he filled her. Yes, this was good. Very, very good. She could definitely enjoy sex with him. Nice, safe sex—

"Wait!"

He froze above her, the muscles in his shoulders and arms straining. "What?" he rasped.

"Condom."

He let out a long breath, flipping the strands of hair that had fallen across his eyes. "Jeez, you scared the hell out of me. I thought you'd changed your mind."

No chance. She was about to find out what all the fuss had been about in high school. But only with a condom.

She rolled over and rummaged in the bottom drawer of the bedside table. "I know they're in here somewhere. I always keep one for emergencies."

"This is an emergency." He nuzzled her left butt cheek. "In fact, it's a matter of life and death for my—"

"Got it." She held up the little silver packet.

"It's not a prize. Hurry up and open it."

She took out the condom and sheathed him, fumbling at first until she got the technique right. "Oh wow," he murmured, "you've got wonderfully sensuous hands."

He kissed her breast, sucking on a nipple. Then he entered her, slow and sure but not quite all the way in. "You’re so tight," he whispered and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

He withdrew before plunging to the hilt, making her eyes spring open in amazement. Amazement that she didn’t split in two.

Hip to hip, they rocked, his thrusts measured, controlled. He sucked on her nipple again and she pushed up to meet his mouth, wanting more of that. Tiny ripples spread through her body and then became bigger waves as Sam picked up the rhythm. Faster, harder he plunged into her, his hot mouth all over her, sucking and licking until she couldn't stand it anymore and wrapped her legs around his waist. The position sent him deeper and she gasped as fire spread through her body.

That seemed to send him over the edge and he bucked once, twice, with a guttural growl to finish off.

He collapsed beside her, breathing heavily, one leg trapping both of hers. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing her shoulder.

"Maddie," he whispered into her hair, "that was fantastic."

Fantastic didn't even begin to describe it as far as she was concerned. He'd been better than any of her other lovers. The rumors had all been true. He'd lived up to every fantasy she'd ever had of him—and she'd had more than she'd ever admit to. She smiled up at the smudge on her ceiling and thanked the powers-that-be for sending her this one chance.

Oh wow. She'd done it with Sam Hennessy. It! The horizontal mambo! Wait till Cynthia Bolowski heard about this.

But the smile turned to a frown as a hollowness settled into her chest. She wouldn't be telling anyone. Probably not even Linda unless she blurted it out along with the tears she'd be shedding soon enough. This couldn't happen again. Tomorrow, once Pheramour had worn off completely, sanity would return and Sam wouldn't be interested in the nerd anymore.

A tight knot formed in her gut as her old life flashed before her eyes. A life without Sam. A boring, celibate life.

"Next time," he said in between nibbling her ear, "it’ll be better for you. I won’t let you distract me again."

Next time. If only.

Oh God. What would he do when he found out she'd tricked him into having sex with her?